I’m scared of haircuts

Okay, I get that this is a ridiculous fear, I really do. However, I don’t think I ever made a choice to be this way; it just happened.

My first haircut memory is my sixth birthday. My mom decided to take me to get my hair done for my birthday party; I guess she thought it would be a nice treat.

I cried the whole time.

My hair looked like this. Only less adorable and more awkward.

To this day I don’t know what upset me so much about that haircut. The hairdresser was nice, and my hair certainly looked nice afterwards. Whatever it was that bugged me though, it stuck.

For the next eleven and a half years of my life, I bounced from hairdresser to hairdresser, trying to find someone who would make me feel more comfortable while they hacked away at my hair. I went through a series of awkward haircuts, including something that resembled Justin Bieber circa 2008. I suspect that the fact that my haircuts sucked so much may have to  with the fact that whenever a hairdresser asked me what I wanted my hair to look like, I would put my head in my hands and kind of rock back and forth mumbling, “I don’t know,” over and over. I couldn’t help it though. There was just something about that person standing over me with that plastic comb and those little silver scissors that just made me panic.

In the last couple years, I’ve mostly avoided haircuts altogether, which has helped my hair grow exceptionally long, but has also made the ends split to high heaven (Can I use that phrase here? I feel like that doesn’t mean what I think it means).

Don’t worry, this story has a happy ending. Today, after spending half an hour trying to yank out the knots in my damaged, bedraggled locks, I finally gave in and booked a haircut at a fairly swanky looking salon across town. I was nervous when I walked in, but the “stylist” who introduced herself and Elda, was so sweet and patient. She talked me through what she was going to do, showed me exactly how much she would trim off to get rid of the damage, and suggested that she could cut the front bits a little shorter to frame my face.

I couldn’t believe it. It was just so easy, and almost…pleasant. My panic evaporated, and *poof* I was cured of my phobia.

Now if only I could cure my vampire fears, I’d be set for life.

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4 thoughts on “I’m scared of haircuts

  1. Glad your phobia is cured! I’m scared haircuts too. What if it’s too short? What if it gets all funny looking (which it does every time)?!

  2. “to high heavens” is usually used in reference to something stinking to high heavens. I would act all smug and pretend like I knew this before hand but in all honesty I had to google it. Funny stuff!

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